Wild Card
by spraycandy
Summary: This isn’t anything like your old life, Fancy Crane, but it’s yours, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Continuation of my oneshot, Come Find Me. Swearing.


**Story: **Wild Card  
**Author: **Spraycandy  
**Chapter Synopsis: **After a chance encounter with the former love of her life, Fancy Crane finds herself pregnant and single. She has a daughter, Sienna, who is her pride and joy. They live peacefully in New York City, until Noah Bennett comes and asks Fancy for a favor.

**A/N: **This is my second Passions story, a continuation from my one-shot Come Find Me. A big THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! To everyone who reviewed that one , I'm so happy you liked it .

* * *

**Chapter 1: Count Yourself In**

This isn't anything like your old life, Fancy Crane, but it's yours, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

Five-year-old Sienna sat on the leather sofa, a big Disney book resting on her lap. She stared intently at the vibrant pictures of _The Little Mermaid_, not even bothering to make sense of the gibberish that her mommy called 'the story.'

The sunlight poured in through their windows, and they both heard the excited chatter of the birds and insects. It was a beautiful summer day outside; Fancy hated wasting the beautiful summer days cooped up inside.

"Sienna, baby, you want to go for a walk?" Fancy called, her hand resting on the closet doorknob.

The toddler shook her head, her blonde pigtails swinging.

"Nooo, mommy! Walks are icky… and there are the bumblie bees outside!"

"Well, alright, honey. I'm going to get started on dinner. Mac and cheese sound okay?"

"Great, mommy!"

"Okay. How about you tell me how the story ends over supper?"

Sienna squirmed, and Fancy grinned; she knew her daughter hated even _attempting_ to read, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to push her a bit.

"Fiiine," Sienna mumbled.

--

So, this was where Fancy the Great ended up?

The expensive, Victorian-looking condominium loomed over him. He scanned the yellow post-it note over once again, just to make sure he had the right address.

This didn't exactly look like Fancy's type of place… but, then again, what the hell did he know about Fancy Crane? If he didn't anticipate her leaving Harmony without so much as a whisper and severing all ties for the last twelve years, then he _sure_ as hell didn't know the sort of building she'd pick to settle down in.

He tried to steer his mind from the pang of rage surging through him.

12, Maxwell Fischer.  
01A, Olivia Blackwood.

02A, Fancy Crane.

The male inhaled sharply and pressed the doorbell.

He would rather be somewhere, _anywhere, _but here right now.

But he needed to see Fancy one last time. He knew that he would explode at her and order her to return to Harmony just as well as he knew that she'd resist and tell him to get the fuck out of her house. But either way, he needed to talk to her… before…

"Hello?"

"Fancy? It's Noah. Bennett. Buzz me up, we need to talk- and before you ignore me, I'm going to tell you; this is important."

--

She shut her eyes, trying desperately to stop the brigade of tears from cascading down her cheeks.

"What do you m-mean _fatal_? You can't die, Noah! You've done so much for other people… you killed… you killed a _scumbag,_ you should be… you're a hero…"

"Well, apparently heroism doesn't make you immune to fatal diseases."

Wet, hot, thick tears splashed onto Fancy's arm. She couldn't take this. Noah was her first _true _love, for Pete's sake! For a good while, they were _everything_ to each other, and now he was just going to be erased, forgotten, just like _that_?

She felt herself crumpling into his embrace, and she buried her teary eyes into his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, Fancy Feast. Don't cry. I didn't come here to make you cry. I came to ask you a question… well, it's more like a favor."

"Anything. Anything, Noah, anything at all," she sobbed, reluctantly pulling herself free from his grasp.

From the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out an envelope. It was folded over and creased; he handed it to her.

"Okay, so, me and Paloma got married last year," he explained, leading her to one of the sofas, "and she's pregnant, due in about a month. We don't know the sex; I'm guessing a boy, she wants a girl, of course. Anyway, I didn't want to tell her about this… this _sickness, _because she's already in deep water with pregnancy. So, any more emotional jolts and that's it for her. And for the baby.

"That's why, when it happens- when I die- I want you to give this to her. It's a letter."

Fancy stared at the envelope, pangs of pain, guilt and shock spreading through her body. Why had he chosen her? Why not Sam, or Pilar? She wouldn't ask these questions; now was not a time for questions.

"Okay. Okay. It's as good as-"

Just then, Fancy heard the front door swing open and the pitter-patter of slippers padding across the hardwood floors.

"Mommy," Sienna began, "Ms. Blackwood is out of Choco-Cookies, d'we have 'em left?"

Noah's head snapped around, and he stared at the little girl, who stared back at him with bright, inquiring brown eyes.

--


End file.
